


Eviction Notice

by Neila_Nuruodo



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Body Dysphoria, Loneliness, Multi, legal action
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:35:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25811446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neila_Nuruodo/pseuds/Neila_Nuruodo
Summary: Not wanting to come into conflict with the last original inhabitant of the star, you look instead to legal means to thwart Elidibus's plans (and reclaim Ardbert's form).  You hope that his comportment as a Warrior of Light will bind him to follow the laws of this land... but if he refuses, you yet have other means at your disposal.  A hint of crack played straight.
Relationships: Elidibus/Hythlodaeus (Final Fantasy XIV), Elidibus/Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	Eviction Notice

**Author's Note:**

> Me: I will write something humorous!  
> Also me: writes something mostly serious... hopefully next chapter will be better ahahah

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A writ of execution is a judicial order that a judgment be enforced; it's unrelated to executing a person.

“What is this?”

You watch, nerves abuzz as Elidibus holds the sheet of vellum gingerly between a careful thumb and forefinger. He gazes at it as though he might find himself suddenly holding a viper by the tail, and in truth you cannot really blame him for the sentiment.

“It’s a written notice.”

“Patently,” he bites, unamused. “Pertaining to _what,_ precisely?”

You wave a hand. “Read it.”

The suspicious, skeptical look he gives you is almost painfully out of place on Ardbert’s face. Just another reminder of your purpose. But it is not your intent to threaten him, so you clasp your arms behind yourself as he stares narrow-eyed back and nod toward the sheet. Finally he accedes, either satisfied this is not some strange trick or deciding you will not leave him be until he does. His eyes flick back and forth in rapid movements, line by line. Slowly a crease forms between his brows, a wrinkle in that seemingly youthful forehead. When his gaze rises once more to your own, his eyes are stormy.

“You cannot be serious.”

You shrug. The writ of execution he holds seems pretty clear to you. Ardbert’s soul is joined now to your own, the two of you one person now. Therefore the body he wears belongs to you, and you have not seen fit to extend him permission to use it. It is stolen property, and as such must be returned. You think yourself understanding; you do not intend to bring criminal charges, not unless he gives you no choice in the matter.

When he simply stares, cold and demanding, you give him an easy smile. “I am entirely serious.”

His brows draw together into an expression of incredulity, his gaze dropping to the vellum. “You claim to be the holder of Ardbert’s soul. What nonsense.”

 _That_ pricks you, your friendly amusement dropping away. “You would call me a liar? We can sort this easily enough. If you lack the sight yourself, we need but go to Amaurot, find the shade of Hythlodaeus, and request that he recount my encounter with him from before my fight with H—Emet-Selch.”

Elidibus’s eyes—Ardbert’s, in truth, borrowed—narrow, a mulish expression crossing his face. “I doubt it. The shades lack persistent memory.”

“Not this one,” you say, and though you have not managed to _find_ him again in the brief moments you had to wander through the city between saving the world, you are confident it is the case. “Something went differently during his reconstruction. He is aware of the nature of his existence… and he was able to see Ardbert’s shade walking beside me as we traveled the city together.”

At this he smiles, an unkind expression. “Is that so? Let us track down this self-aware shade, then.” The glimmer of interest in his eyes, poorly hidden, gives you a sudden pang of doubt about your suggestion, but it is far too late now. Better to be on hand when he finds Hythlodaeus (or fails to do so), you decide, and give a stiff nod.

“Shall we reconvene in the Macarenses Angle?”

* * *

You did not expect to beat the Ascian there.

Amaurot is as it has been since you first saw it, the illusion as perfect and calm as it ever was. You linger in the plaza, watching the shades drift by, trying not to worry how you will find Hythlodaeus. He found _you,_ before, when you needed it. Hopefully he will do so once more.

When Elidibus arrives, it is not by teleport. He could nearly be another shade were it not for his size and lack of robes; his stride is slow, measured and evenly paced as he approaches the square where you now stand, trying not to fidget. You spare a thought toward meeting him partway, but something in his focus and study as he makes his stately way through the city stills you. His pace slows as he approaches, stopping some way outside your reach. Still wary. But then, that is not so surprising.

“Have you located this shade?” Elidibus wastes no time coming to the point, a curious contrast to his unhurried approach.

“Not yet. I felt it best that we find and approach him together. In the interest of full transparency.” You glance about, double-checking your bearings as you begin to walk. “I encountered him in the Bureau of the Secretariat…” You trail off, stopping as you realize Elidibus is not following.

“You named this shade as ‘Hythlodaeus,’ did you not?” You nod. He turns his head to the nearby Bureau of the Architect, the opposite direction from where you had begun to walk. “As Chief of the Bureau of the Architect, this is the department he runs. You were, perhaps, fortunate to encounter him elsewhere.” For a moment his face darkens, a troubled look crossing it. A few seconds, eyes pressing briefly closed, and he dispels it. “If he is not within, most likely his colleagues will be able to point us to where he has gone.”

You blink. Of course Elidibus would know his way about. But you had no idea Hythlodaeus had been someone important. “Right,” you say, switching course. “That sounds perfect.” As Elidibus falls in beside you, albeit at a cautious distance, you wonder how he knew Hythlodaeus… and how _well_ he knew him. Perhaps the Convocation members worked with the heads of other governmental departments, or perhaps these reported to them? Or could it be linked to Elidibus’s status as emissary? Almost you ask him, still somehow accustomed to Emet-Selch’s openness, his receptive demeanor to those who would bother to _ask._

Alas, Elidibus has demonstrated no such affection for you. You keep your questions to yourself.

As before, the office is a bit intimidating—not in a threatening way, simply one of complexity (and bureaucracy) well over your head. You hesitate before the massive desk, nerves abuzz even though these shades have never been anything but kind and, perhaps, a bit busy. You are saved as the shade looks the pair of you over and settles its gaze upon Elidibus instead of you.

“Honored Elidibus, how may I serve?”

If Elidibus’s form or stature strikes the shade as unusual, he makes no comment upon it. You wonder fleetingly how this shade recognizes him without the mask, but if Hythlodaeus had soul-sight sharper even than Emet-Selch’s own then it seems likely such a thing is useful in the Bureau of the Architect. Elidibus speaks without hesitation.

“I have come to request a consultation with Hythlodaeus. Is he within?”

The shade twines suddenly nervous hands together before him. “He is not, I fear. Citing the all-too-looming possibility that the tragedy across the ocean might make its way here in the near future and move even our fair city to a state of emergency, he has taken the day for relaxation and some personal project. If it please you, I can send for him at once.”

“Unnecessary,” Elidibus says. “The matter is not urgent. If you could but point us toward him, that would be sufficient.”

“Of course, of course,” the shade says, a note of relief coloring the cacophonous speech. He shoots you an odd glance, as though wondering who you might be or, more likely, wondering why Elidibus travels with a child. His hand rises to press a light touch upon the white mask’s forehead as his head turns this way and that. “You will find him in the vicinity of the Capitol building, near the entrance.”

“I am grateful for your assistance.” Elidibus gives him a grave bow of his head and turns away. He does not look at you, apparently trusting you can follow along on your own. You let your attention wander as you traverse the walkways toward the looming Capitol building. Every edifice in this city towers, but the Capitol is broad as well as tall, its wide base stepping narrower as it reaches toward the heavens… toward the surface.

As you near the large columns of the Capitol’s entrance, you slow. Before you can worry how you will recognize Hythlodaeus, a shade turns away from its conversation to observe your passage. Elidibus slows, frowning.

“Esteemed Elidibus. Is aught the matter?”

“Hythlodaeus.” A pause. Elidibus sighs. “That is you, is it not, Hythlodaeus?”

“Of course. How might I be of service?”

With an impatient gesture, Elidibus waves your group to the side. Hythlodaeus towers gently over the two of you as you walk. The concern he'd shown at your last meeting is nowhere in evidence; amusement and pleasure vy for supremacy in his stride and voice.

"Ah, Elidibus, is the sight still too much trouble except in cases of dire need? How much you might see, if you but cultivated a habitual use…" Elidibus scowls, but Hythlodaeus shows no sign of contrition. "Hmm, but I doubt you have sought me out in order to receive a lecture, however well-intended…"

You step all the way to the walkway’s railing, peeking over the drop into the misty depths for a moment. When you turn back you are surprised to find Hythlodaeus looking at you instead of Elidibus. He is the first shade to do so in this city, and a knot within you eases. It does seem you were not mistaken.

“Can you see it?” you blurt. “My soul?”

Elidibus’s face turns to you, annoyance still writ upon it, but he holds his tongue. Hythlodaeus gives a thoughtful hum.

“You have grown stronger. More complete. And your companion no longer follows your steps.”

“Yeah.” You take a deep breath. “Yeah. He saved my life.”

“My condolences. I imagine the two of you were close. Such a sacrifice must be bittersweet, to always have him with you now, but at the price of the memories that made him who he was.”

You nod, not quite willing to trust your voice. Elidibus speaks at last, impatience poorly concealed.

“Then you do remember your previous encounter? The Warrior of Darkness claims you named their souls as originally one. Naturally I cannot simply take this claim at face value.” His expression darkens. “Especially given the demands I have been given predicated upon it.”

At that Hythlodaeus pauses, glancing between the two of you. After a moment of deliberation, he sighs.

“I can indeed confirm this to be the case. When first I met them, their souls differed only in density; the color of their souls was unmistakable, and unmistakably the same. And now it is plain to my sight that they have become one. But why does such a thing sow discord between your souls?”

You glance at Elidibus. His lips are drawn thin, paled from how tightly they press together. You sigh. “The body he wears belonged to that shade that walked with me.”

Hythlodaeus’s face turns between the two of you, but he holds his peace. You glance at Elidibus, find a mulish expression of ire twisting his lips. It occurs to you abruptly that the only witnesses here are shades, and only Hythlodaeus would remember should something happen to you. And you do not know if there is anything he could do, should Elidibus turn his fury to action.

“You have no need, no use for this body. Your legal proceedings are but a front to interfere with my mission. I cannot allow that.”

You sigh. Unsurprising, but a disappointment nonetheless. You glance at Hythlodaeus, considering. Elidibus does not show much, but you still have the unshakable impression that Amaurot unsettles him. That he has to fight every minute to remember it is not real, it is not home. Perhaps this shade of someone he used to know will temper his anger, or at least his behavior. You draw a deep breath.

“Is that to say, then, that you will not cooperate? As I said before, I do not wish this issue to come to violence. If you but relinquish Ardbert's body for reinterment we can part peaceably."

Blue eyes flash with fire. "Nay. Your legal demands are predicated upon a flawed and favoritism-riddled system. I heed a higher cause, a greater law." He smiles, cruel. "I suppose we shall see, shall we not, how serious you are about seeking a non-violent resolution.”

By his expression it is plain how little he thinks of your promises and protestations. You cannot stop the sigh that gusts from you.

“Indeed. In that case, the Crystarium guard shall be notified of your delinquent status; should you return to the Crystarium you will be detained."

He gives a humorless huff of laughter. "Fortunate indeed, then, that my business sends me to Eulmore. Or…" He affects a mockery of thoughtfulness. "Will you exert the power you hold over this new mayor to continue your attempts to thwart me?"

The jibe stings, and all the more so because you no doubt _could_ use your connections to impede his mission—whatever it might be. Temptation rises; surely such a misuse of your influence would be forgivable, under the circumstances… You shake your head. Is this what you have sunk to? Surely you can find another way. You always have before, have you not?

"If there is one thing I excel at, it is finding another way. Please let me know if you reconsider your stance." Turning your attention to Hythlodaeus, you sketch a brief bow. "Thank you for your testimony. I am sorry to involve you in this. Perhaps the next time we meet, it shall be under better circumstances."

The indistinct face of a shade shows no emotion beneath the mask, but you fancy Hythlodaeus’s body language sags a bit, sadder than when you first found him. His voice, inasmuch as the strange chiming cacophony can, bears a cheer that somehow still feels forced. "Of course, my friend. You must come visit me another time, when you may take your leisure."

You nod. "Now I know how to find you, that should be much easier." You manage a smile, giving him a wave before turning to leave. Your neck prickles to know that Elidibus, angry still, is behind you.

"Elidibus… if I might, I would speak with you in a personal capacity."

Your steps trip, the desire to listen in nearly halting you in your tracks. It is an act of will to carry on, though you allow yourself a slower pace, listening intently.

Elidibus does not respond immediately. When he speaks, his voice is filled with a bone-deep weariness. "To what end, Hythlodaeus? Neither of us are who we once were. Do you wish me to pretend?"

"Of course not." The response is evenly measured, bearing traces of amusement. "It is, rather, to do with my current state. This shade's existence."

Silence lingers in the placid city, broken at length by Elidibus's sigh. "I am sorry, dear friend. There is little I can do for your present state unless you seek oblivion. What _does_ lie within my power is the completion of the great work, whose end will see your restoration in truth."

There is a lull in the conversation. “I have watched Emet-Selch and now you come into conflict with…” The voice drops abruptly, going too low to catch. You grit your teeth, resisting the urge to turn back, to _run_ back, to grab him by his robes and plead with him to _tell_ you.

“The world tips upon a delicate balance point. The Source was nearly destroyed; but for…” The distance again obscures the quieter words. “What I do, I do to preserve _everything.”_

"Elidibus… were we not once better than this?"

You glance back at the words, catching Elidibus’s face in profile. The stormy brow lifts, eyes going wide, and his lips part. Hythlodaeus's hand rises, its size shocking in contrast to the shoulder it settles on. After a moment Elidibus turns into the touch, awkwardly returning the embrace, and you turn away from the suddenly intimate moment, hurrying your steps once more.

* * *

Elidibus lets himself lean into the shade’s weight, pushing aside the realization that this entity of solid aether— _not his lover,_ no longer _his lover_ —was neither warm nor cold, and only barely solid. It is comforting and painful by equal measures, the wound aching, the feeling of _absence_ inextricable from the hints of _presence._ But to have another who understands, if only in a small or fictional way, is a kindness he cannot seem to pull away from.

Hythlodaeus, he senses intuitively, feels as alone among the other shades as he himself does among fragmented humanity.

He winds up clinging largely to one thigh, his broken and borrowed form so small beside that which they once were. But Hythlodaeus seems untroubled by this, large hands cupping oh-so-gently about him, and so he does not let it trouble him, either. They both have troubles aplenty without borrowing more.

“I can no more stop or change course than I could prevent the sundering.” The confession sears his heart, that old pain once again born new, fresh. “You have not borne witness to the atrocities these broken creatures commit. I beg your trust, your _faith,_ in this matter. What I do seems a cruelty, but it is no more cruel than cleansing the infection from a wound or weeding a garden.”

His hands fall, releasing their grip as Hythlodaeus shifts, pulls back. He squeezes his eyes shut, knowing it will not truly hide his pain but trying nonetheless. They blink back open as arms curve about his shoulders to pull him tight. He finds Hythlodaeus kneeling now, much closer to his level, to embrace him. With a raw noise he cannot hold in he pushes close, his arms locking around the shade’s neck and dragging himself into his lap.

“You said you could grant me oblivion, if necessary.”

Claws pierce Elidibus’s heart at the painful hesitance in Hythlodaeus’s voice. Yes, he would do this for his lover. He would grant the shade peace, if memory grew too painful to bear. No matter how it would rend his heart… this he would do.

Hythlodaeus goes on, seeming oblivious to Elidibus’s reaction, though there is little chance he would have failed to notice it. “In truth I do not crave it, not yet at least. I sense I have a role to play in our future. There are times I wonder… perhaps it was no mistake that Emet-Selch granted me an awareness my compeers lack. But… I pray you attend me occasionally, in case the burden grows too weighty. In the meantime…”

Conflicting feelings soar within Elidibus, each trying to swallow the others only to be overwhelmed in turn. He draws back fractionally to see that blank face. As though it will give him some insight into his lover’s shade, he thinks with self-deprecating humor. “Ask.”

“This form is… incomplete. A mere placeholder, as it were. I do not hunger, nor do I thirst. But I am yet self-aware. My mental needs remain intact… and with this body I cannot experience physical pleasure as I would like to. I know your talents lie in an arena other than the detailed formation of aether and flesh. I would not ask you to reshape me if you cannot. But your specialty may yet prove a boon, if you are willing to spare time for me upon occasion. If you but created a link, a powerful bond between us so I may  _ feel…”  _

Elidibus smiles, his vision blurring. “As we have done before, though for a different purpose. Of course. Such a thing may bring me a measure of peace, as well.” Tenderly he sinks against that broad shoulder, burying his face in the folds of fabric and inhaling as though he might catch his lover’s scent. He refuses to let its absence dim his smile, for he yet recalls it.

And with the memories he holds, all can yet be restored to how it once was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! My intent is to lean into the humor on the next chapter but uh... let's just say it's not my forte. This next one will hit the Elidibus/WoL angle (and may even devolve into Elidibus/Hythlodaeus/WoL, depending...)


End file.
